Winter Lord: Starting with Daily Intelligence

Chapter 341 The Shock of Civilization

After registration, the registrar waved to them: "Come on, I'll take you to your accommodation."

As he walked, he introduced himself: "My name is Harom, and I come from the Old Bone Tribe. I am now in my third year as a Red Tide citizen and am in charge of receiving new residents in the outer city."

Kosa walked at the very back. At first, he didn't walk fast, and his eyes kept scanning his surroundings, like a small animal that hadn't yet become familiar with its environment, subconsciously trying to keep his distance.

But the longer he walked, the more silent he became.

The road beneath our feet was paved with gray and white stone bricks, each one remarkably neat and orderly.

There was no mud, no litter, and no sewage on either side of the street.

The drainage ditch was a half-covered stone trough covered with an iron mesh, and the water inside flowed clear and without even a suds.

Kosa involuntarily quickened his pace.

There were many voices in the distance, but there were no shouts or scrambling; there was only an orderly clamor he had never heard before.

Kosa kept his head down and continued walking forward.

He could hear that the footsteps of the barbarian boys behind him had slowed down considerably.

Some people were whispering among themselves, while others stared in disbelief, their shock and envy almost beyond words.

This was the first time they had ever seen a city like this.

In terms of streets and buildings alone, the Red Tide left their haphazardly built wooden houses several blocks behind.

No matter what your tribal lineage or ancestral spirits are, they all seem too shabby here.

"This is amazing..." the boy walking to his right couldn't help but exclaim in a low voice, "This is the Red Tide...this is civilization..."

He was a man named Besha, a year older than them, and the nephew of a chieftain of a small tribe.

He didn't say much along the way, but from the moment he entered the city gate, he changed completely.

He began to speak with reverence, looking at everything as if it were a miracle. From the city walls and squares to the copper hooks on the rooftops, even a neatly arranged stone brick could evoke a sense of awe.

“I’d do anything to live in a place like this,” Besha said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of fanaticism, as if she had found a new faith.

Kosa listened without replying, only silently gritting his teeth.

He didn't dislike this Besha, and he could understand why he was shocked, but he felt the change was too fast.

Kosa felt he shouldn't be like this, so he tried to convince himself that he was only here to learn, not to surrender. He was named Hanchi and was the son of Tolan Hanchi.

In front of Liechao Square, a tall building stands in the morning mist.

The base is made of bluish-gray stone, with dark gold trim around the edges. The main beam is made of cedar wood, and the eaves are very low. The sun pattern above the main entrance looks like it can actually emit light.

"That's the government building of Red Tide City. All the policies, big and small, in the entire Red Tide Territory are born here," Harrom stopped and proudly pointed to the building. "The city lord usually handles government affairs there."

His tone was not loud, but it carried an undeniable respect.

Kosa didn't reply, he just stared silently at the building.

In his past understanding, the residence of so-called powerful people was at most a tent made of animal bones or a stone altar with totems.

Some tribal chiefs would even fill the place with human bones to create a sense of horror and maintain their rule through intimidation, but this place is completely different.

After crossing the square, a lively atmosphere immediately greeted us.

The stalls were set up in rows, covered with sheet metal, and arranged neatly.

The crowd was not small, but there was almost no noise, only footsteps and the occasional brief inquiry of price.

“This is the South City commercial district,” Harrom said as they walked. “These stalls all have licenses, and the currency used is uniformly iron coins, copper coins, and resource tickets.”

Kosa's gaze was drawn to an old craftsman repairing boots, with several pieces of thick leather he had never seen before beside him.

Not far away, there were merchants from the south selling cloth and spices.

Further away, there were stalls with signs that read "Red Tide Workshop," specializing in ironware, pottery, and some industrial products made from the red tide, which Xhosa had never seen before.

The Red Tide Market has all kinds of goods from around the world, but none of these are what shocked him the most.

What shocked him most was that someone bowed to Harom, not out of fear, but as if to a truly respected person.

One little girl even ran over and called him "Uncle Ha".

Harom even bent down and patted her head with a smile.

This scene left Kosa somewhat stunned.

He subconsciously thought, "That's a barbarian tribe."

No one pointed fingers or showed any disgust; everyone took it for granted.

Even merchants dressed as people from the Southern Empire used respectful language in his presence.

But he himself wasn't quite sure whether it was resistance or a kind of... inexplicable envy.

Kosa walked for a while with his head down, his gaze sweeping over the unrealistically neat streets, canals, eaves, braziers, and the crowds coming and going with calm expressions.

For the first time, he felt a strange emotion rising within him.

It was a faint... inferiority complex.

This was not the first time Louis had arranged such a "visiting-style guidance".

Prior to this, whether they were sons of old noble families in the North, members of the Southern delegation, or special envoys sent by the capital, as long as their identities were key enough, they were eligible to participate.

Louis would arrange such a stroll as soon as they arrived in Red Tide City.

It's not about listening to speeches, reading reports, or being intimidated in military camps, but about stepping into the city and experiencing the awe-inspiring power of civilization.

Let them see for themselves the clean streets, the trust between commoners and knights without hierarchy, and the smiles on people's faces.

Let them hear the Red Tide official recount loudly how the Red Tide system changed his life, in a calm tone.

They were less persuaded and more attacked.

They realized that their past tribal glory, family superiority, and border hardships were not respected or ridiculed here, but rather simply ignored.

It's brutal, but extremely effective.

“It’s not about saying it, it’s about letting them experience the difference for themselves.” This is Louis’s own assessment.

Red Tide City itself is his greatest weapon.

People walking between Liechao Square and the main road don't need to be persuaded; they'll understand as soon as they open their eyes.

Kosa was unaware of the details behind all these arrangements.

But when he heard Harom recount his origins as a Red Tide official on the wide stone path, the pride he had been using to resist began to crumble.

Louis has tried this method many times.

It works perfectly every time.

When we arrived at the residential area of ​​the Third Ring Road, it was already close to evening. The braziers along the street were lit early, and clusters of warm orange light emanated from the tin cans, turning the stone brick ground a pale gold.

“This will be your accommodations from now on.” Harom walked ahead, pointing to the cluster of buildings that were half-buried in the distance. “Red tide style domed houses. This is the living area for military households and staff. They are windproof in winter and well-ventilated in summer. There are also geothermal pipes in the houses. It’s enough to keep warm by burning the stove twice a day.”

Kosa looked up at the roofs that resembled half-rocky hills. The dark gray and indigo bricks were tightly joined together, with almost no gaps, and a faint ring of dark gold lines could be seen around the edges, encircling the entire curved roof ridge.

He didn't speak, but subconsciously tightened the cloth bag on his shoulder and slowed his pace by half a beat.

Harom walked in front and pushed open the door of one of the houses.

The door hinges slid almost silently, and warmth flowed out from the gaps, touching the face and making one squint.

The interior is clean and simple, with compacted stone slabs on the floor and no unnecessary decorations in the center. The staircase is an arched design embedded in the wall, saving space without sacrificing aesthetics.

“This one is for you boys, six people per floor, two floors.” Harom said as he walked down to the lower floor.

They went downstairs and saw that the storage room and the kitchen were located on either side.

The stove was made of stone, with a copper exhaust pipe running through the entire room. The cooking utensils were neatly arranged, and in the corner were wooden buckets and iron kettles, as well as a whole piece of uncut salted dried meat wrapped in oilcloth on a shelf.

"It won't freeze in winter, and it won't get moldy. The grain won't spoil even after a month." Harom said as if introducing something commonplace.

Besa followed behind Kosa, staring at the cooking station for a while, then muttered in amazement, "I've never seen such a clean stove."

He touched the warm stone on the wall, then tried to feel the heat inside the copper pipe, his eyes shining.

"This house...won't it be cold in winter without needing to light a fire?"

No one answered him, but he didn't care. He just got more and more excited as he looked around. After walking around the house, he stood at the door and looked at the entire residential area.

"This is the red tide..."

At that moment, there was something in his eyes that Kosa had never seen before.

It wasn't awe or envy, but something like a kind of fanaticism.

Kosa did not speak.

He simply stood inside the house, looking at the clean cracks in the stone walls, the extinguished stove, and the bronze ornaments on the windowsill.

He had heard people say when he was a child that this was a place only the imperial nobles could live in.

But now, it was clearly these barbarian youths, carrying cloth bags and wearing animal skins, who walked into this house.

He remembered his original dwelling was a shed surrounded by wooden stakes, with a leaky roof and smoke that could only roll into the house.

When the wind was strong, he and his brother had to use tattered animal hides to block the corners of the wall in order to barely get through the night.

And here... here there is even hot water, an oven, dry food, and a copper teapot.

This contrast was more biting than the cold wind for Khosa.

Kosa didn't know what others thought, but he couldn't take his eyes off them.

He muttered to himself, "It's just that the roads are better paved and the houses are rounder... that's not a big deal."

But as he spoke, his steps slowed down.

Kosa suddenly thought that if his mother could live in such a house, would she stop coughing so much?

So he didn't say anything more.

Harom explained the rules of the day, then added, "The food is on the table. Eat and get some rest. Someone will come to call you to gather early tomorrow morning."

The door is closed.

The room immediately fell silent.

The air was filled with the aroma of bread and a slightly fermented sour smell—the "Salted Yellow Cheese" newly produced in Red Tide City.

On the table was a basket of sliced ​​bread, a pot of warm water, a small jar of cheese, and a few pieces of dried cured meat. It wasn't a lavish meal, but it was excellent treatment for these boys who had come all the way from the border village, braving wind and snow.

One of the tall barbarian boys rushed forward, grabbed a piece of bread, took a bite, and his eyes widened instantly.

"Is this really what they eat every day?"

"Didn't they say the Imperials only eat beans all day?"

"What's this thing called?!"

The boys chattered amongst themselves, gathered around the table, and soon finished eating with satisfied expressions.

Kosa didn't move; he just sat in the corner and watched them.

He wasn't as excited as they were, nor did he completely disagree.

A feeling of relief welled up in my chest.

Kosa had thought he was there to be taken hostage, or even humiliated.

But now he's just in a warm room, eating soft bread with a few people his own age.

Even the matter of being a barbarian seemed less important.

He couldn't help but lower his head, break off a small piece of bread, and put it in his mouth.

He chewed a few times, then suddenly chuckled softly.

The roads are indeed better paved, and the houses are indeed rounder, but... it does seem quite remarkable.

…………

That night, Harom returned to the Red Tide City Hall.

Instead of returning to his residence, he waited for a moment outside Louis's study before being summoned.

The room was brightly lit.

Louis, wearing a dark gray cloak, was sitting behind a long table reviewing a workshop budget draft, while Bradley stood to his side, taking notes for him.

"Come in," Louis said without looking up.

Harrom entered the room, gave a half-bow, and couldn't hide his excitement:

"Reporting to you, sir, the seventeen recommended teenagers from Bianwei Village who have arrived have been successfully settled into residential houses within the Third Ring Road of the city. They are in stable condition and have completed their registration."

"During the visit to the squares, markets and residential facilities along the way... the teenagers showed obvious shock, surprise and longing, and had already shown an initial tendency to identify with them."

He paused briefly, then added, "As you instructed, I didn't indoctrinate them too much; I just let them see for themselves. The results were better than expected."

Bradley nodded, made a brief note, and turned to Louis: "It seems that the first small-scale implementation of Project Beacon of Civilization can be considered a success."

Louis closed the file in his hand, his gaze finally shifting to Harrom, a satisfied smile on his face: "Well done."

Upon hearing this, Harrom lowered his head and lowered his voice even further: "Your subordinate merely... did as Your Excellency requested."

If it weren't for your exceptional acceptance of me, a person of barbarian origin, three years ago, and your appointment of me to an important position... I wouldn't be standing here today, let alone dare to imagine that I could shoulder such a task. I will not fail the trust you have placed in me.”

Louis looked at him without responding, only raising his chin: "I understand, then go back and rest."

"Yes." Harom bowed and withdrew, and the room returned to silence.

Bradley flipped through the records and said calmly, "I never expected that taking him in three years ago would now be a way for him to give back to the barbarian boy."

Louis chuckled softly: "To give you an example, the barbarians are people too. They are the first, and they will certainly not be the last."

(End of this chapter)